


The Art of Management

by mylittleredgirl



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Imported, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-02
Updated: 2007-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9547595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittleredgirl/pseuds/mylittleredgirl
Summary: He's on to her.





	

At first, he doesn't think she's doing it on purpose.  
  
Elizabeth leans a little closer to him when she wants something -- a report in on time, help dealing with McKay and his band of quarrelling scientists, a concession to her point of view. She dips a finger under her collar. Touches his arm.  
  
Smiles.  
  
He actually doesn't even notice. He _notices_ , because she's easy on the eyes when she's not yelling at him, and he really doesn't mind having her in his personal space, but he -- perhaps foolishly -- just assumes she flirts with him because of his own personal animal magnetism. He doesn't suspect ulterior motives.  
  
The others figure it out first. He comes across Ford spending his day off guarding some science geeks -- all of whom are speaking in Russian, no less -- and the Lieutenant just shrugs and says, without sounding annoyed, even, "Doctor Weir tricked me into it."  
  
"Oh, yeah, she does that." It isn't until the words are out of his mouth that he realizes exactly how often, well, _she does that._ The looks, the touches, that smile. She tricks him into doing all kinds of things when he's not paying attention. Officer training never prepared him for _this_.  
  
 _Devil woman_ , he thinks with something like pride. He respects her more and more, the longer they're out here. The respect might be grudging at times -- he hasn't known her long enough to give her the complete _trust_ she seems so intent on demanding from him -- but the more he learns, the more he's glad she's on their side.  
  
"Carry on," he tells Ford, laughing at the poor young man's plight as the Russian scientists start yelling hyper things to each other across the Ancient lab.  
  
John heads back to the control room, trying to think of a way to kill time. He figures he'll drop by Doctor Weir's office and bother her again about that "too risky" mission to M8X-381 -- if he drives her crazy enough, she'll send him just about anywhere he wants to go, just to be rid of him. She's not the only one with tricks up her sleeve.  
  
He's on to her now. He'll be damned if he falls for her charms again. He's an Air Force Major. He can handle one diplomat.  
  
It isn't until three hours later, when he's halfway through a food supply inventory he had no desire to do, that he realizes he might be in serious trouble. 


End file.
